


Office Rituals (#75 Gift)

by ladygray99



Category: White Collar
Genre: Community: whitecollar100, Drabble, Gen, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-25
Updated: 2011-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-28 03:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/303066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladygray99/pseuds/ladygray99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s secret Santa time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Office Rituals (#75 Gift)

**Author's Note:**

> Please note I am just at that phase where intoxication fades and the hangover kicks in so if this is wrong and weird that’s my excuse.

Having never worked in an office for an extended period of time Neal was unsure about certain little office rituals, one of them being secret Santa. He reached into his own hat, which had been commandeered for the exercise.

“Remember, no more than 35 dollars.”

Neal looked at Jones’ name on the scrap of paper. He’d spent plenty of time in the surveillance van with him. He knew general information about his family, likes and dislikes. Neal’s mind defaulted to a good bottle of scotch, but anything really good would cost more than 35 dollars. Neal sat back pondering the agent. He still had a few weeks until Christmas.

~

Jones unwrapped his gift. He was pretty sure he knew who it was from just from the elegant coolness of the wrapping paper. It was also suspiciously painting shaped. He flipped over the frame inside and froze. A tremble ran through his body. The painting was a forest landscape. Pretty enough, a bit kitsch and amateurish. And it shouldn’t exist. He grabbed Neal who was walking by threw him against the wall.

“Where the hell did you get that painting?” he shouted.

“I don’t know…”

Jones’ shoved him again banging his head against the wall. “That painting does not exist Caffrey. That painting burned when I was ten. I watched it burn.”

Peter stormed from his office. “What the hell is going on?”

“Clinton doesn’t like his gift.”

“My grandmother painted that and it burned with everything else she owned. How did you do it?”

Neal rubbed the back of his head. “I had lunch with your mother. She brought the family photo album. It was in the background of every other picture.”

Jones knew he should be angry for so many reasons.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forge your grandmother’s signature.”


End file.
